


i begged, mr. stark

by Moocow152



Series: families change like the seasons [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Self-Harm, Tony Stark Has A Heart, this is where i project all of my issues on to my fave character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 11:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moocow152/pseuds/Moocow152
Summary: He didn’t always get a call back, but when he did, he was embarrassed and frustrated with himself. He felt the cautious, twine-thin attachments to Mr. Stark grow bigger, and he hated it. He promised himself that he wouldn’t call, and when that didn’t work, he resorted to begging himself not to call.He did it every day anyway.----Peter is a grieving, mourning, and damaged boy, and he thinks Mr. Stark doesn't want to pick up the pieces. Boy, was he wrong.





	i begged, mr. stark

“Uncle Ben?”

 

Ben heard as small, meek voice call out from his bedroom doorway. He saw the silhouette of his son standing in the dark, rubbing his eyes and clutching onto his stuffed dog.

 

“Peter? Are you ok?”

“Uncle Ben, I had a bad dream.”

 

Ben sighed inwardly. Ever since Peter’s parents had died, he had nightmares almost constantly. He didn’t mind that Peter came to him and May for comfort; in fact, he was more than happy to provide any solace that he could. He just wished he could do more to ease the boy’s pain.

 

“Come into bed with me and Aunt May, bud. You can sleep with us.”

 

Peter fell asleep curled up in his arms.

 

\----

 

When Ben died, something in Peter cracked. After his parents passed away, Ben had promised Peter that he would be there, forever and always. Once again, though, Peter lost the person in his life that he was supposed to be able to trust. Ben left him, just like his parents did. As time passed, he came to terms with the fact that none of them left him on purpose, but the betrayal that he felt deep in his stomach never went away. He chalked it up to rightfully blaming the universe for his emotional turmoil and loss.

 

During Ben’s funeral, he was a shoulder for his Aunt to cry on. He cried and mourned with her because she needed him, but he prided himself on not needing anybody but himself. He withdrew from everyone in his life, May included, unless she specifically needed him. Ned saw less of him, he spoke less in class, and he stopped attending school club meetings. All around, Peter kept falling into this deep, spiraling pit, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It terrified him, but at the same time, he couldn’t make himself care. Nothing mattered anymore.

 

Until, one fateful day, when he was bitten by a radioactive spider on a field trip. Peter thought this was the universe’s way of apologizing to him.

 

He (metaphorically) spat in its face.

 

\----

 

Tony Stark was a piece of the puzzle that no one ever expected to fit into Peter Parker’s life. For some reason, though, he took an interest in Peter. Peter had no idea why (well, he knew  _ why _ , he was Spiderman, but he didn’t really know  _ why _ , you know?), and promised himself that he would never get closer than an arm’s distance. Mr. Stark would be his mentor, and that was it.

His arms betrayed him, though, and they hugged Mr. Stark as soon as they got the chance. His fingers and voice betrayed him, calling Mr. Stark every day to tell him the details of his patrols. Every time he hung up the phone, he would sigh and say to himself,

 

“I’m never doing that again.”

 

He didn’t always get a call back, but when he did, he was embarrassed and frustrated with himself. He felt the cautious, twine-thin attachments to Mr. Stark grow bigger, and he hated it. He promised himself that he wouldn’t call, and when that didn’t work, he resorted to begging himself not to call.

 

He did it every day anyway.

 

\----

 

Peter decided that today had probably been one of the worst days at school in the history of ever. The presentation that he spent hours on for his biochemistry class hadn’t gone to plan (he stutters when he’s nervous, May says it isn’t his fault, but Peter begs to differ), and he had gotten mocked by almost everyone in the class. He got a B- on his Spanish quiz, which had brought his class grade down to an A-. He’d also gotten his backpack ripped open by Flash during lunch period, who stole all of the homework Peter had already done so he could copy it. He went to his next three classes empty handed, and he was given a big, red 0 on each assignment. Peter felt like crying and punching a wall, but he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing that.

 

The bell finally rang, and after a brief discussion with his teacher about his missing assignments, he was off down the school hallways and on his way to the alley near Mr. Delmore’s sandwich shop. He briefly paused, thinking about going inside the shop, but quickly decided against it. His appetite had been small since he woke up, and the idea of eating a sandwich made him feel queasy.

 

So, with a brief pause to consider how dim the colors around him looked these days (he read somewhere that depression could dim colors. Who knew?), he changed into his spider suit, webbed up his backpack, and took off swinging down the streets. It was half-hearted, though. Peter was in a self-destructive mood, and all he wanted was someone to give him a good punch. He was tired of being so empty, and getting his ass beat by a couple of criminals took that away for a little while. When his bruises and broken bones hurt, his mind was more bearable.

 

Peter landed on a rooftop, pulling out his phone to look at his last conversation with Tony.

 

_ “hey mr. stark, i cant come in to the lab after school, my aunt needs me at home” _

 

_ “That’s ok, kid. Just come in on Thursday” _

 

_ “kk mr. stark, thanks!!” _

 

_ “Yeah, kid. And I hope you know, if you ever need anything, just call. Unless you’re drunk and stranded, that’s on your Aunt” _

 

_ “k mr. stark, but really, im all good! see ya thursday :)” _

 

Peter sighed and stashed his phone, feeling slightly bad about lying. He needed it, though. He needed to get hit. He needed pain. Down the street, he heard yelling from multiple men, and a car alarm go off.

 

“That outta do the trick,”  he thought, and took off.

 

\----

 

Peter didn’t even receive a call until ten minutes after the fight ended. He was lying on the roof of some building, staring up at the sky. He knew his ribs were probably broken, and blood was spilling from his nose into his mouth. His eye was already starting to swell shut, blurring the stars so that they danced around like fuzzy little fireflies. He reached out to touch one, momentarily forgetting how far away stars were. At that moment, the world felt so much smaller than it actually was.

 

He had caught five armed men in the process of stealing a car, all of them at least foot taller than him, holding semi-automatic guns. Peter could have easily taken them out without hurting himself, but that would’ve completely ruined the point of why he sought out the fight in the first place. He felt… Better. More at peace.

 

Well, until the phone rang.

 

“ _ Shit,”  _ he thought. “ _Mr. Stark_ _.” _

 

The last thing Peter wanted right now was to talk to the very adult that he was trying to distance himself from, but he knew he’d be in an incredible amount of trouble if he didn’t pick up. He decided that it wasn’t worth the consequences. Mr. Stark could be ruthless when it came to punishments.

 

“Mr. Stark, it’s only 10:00. I haven’t missed my curfew yet,” Peter practically groaned into the phone.

 

“Can it, Peter. How hurt are you?”

 

“Wait, what?” Peter said breathlessly, still coming down from his adrenaline high.  _ How did… _ “Ohhh fuck, Baby Monitor protocol.” 

 

Peter covered his eyes with his hand. He had totally forgotten how closely Mr. Stark watched his patrols.

 

“‘Oh fuck’ is right, kid. I saw you practically throw that fight. You could have taken those burglars with one hand, but you let them toss you around like a ragdoll. FRIDAY had to warn me that you were dangerously close to puncturing a lung with one of your broken ribs.”

 

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. He so did NOT want to be having this conversation right now.

 

“Mr. Stark, I’m really tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

 

“Nuh-uh kid, you swing your spider ass over here. You can sleep here if you want, but we need to talk. Now.”

 

“Mr. Stark…”

 

“So help me, Peter, get over here now or I’ll call your Aunt and tell her what happened.”

 

Peter huffed. It was so close to Uncle Ben’s birthday, the last thing Aunt May needed was to be worrying about him.

 

“Fine,” he said, pulling his mask back on. “I’ll be there in five.”

 

\----

 

When Peter stepped into the kitchen, he could feel something in the air. Whether it was his spider senses or anxiety, he didn’t know, but the air felt heavy with emotions. He spotted Mr. Stark sitting on the sofa, scrolling through a Starkpad. He was still wearing his day clothes, which meant he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Peter let out a silent breathe. At least his problem hadn’t been enough of a burden to wake him.

 

“Stop standing there, Peter,” Mr. Stark said, not looking up from his Starkpad. “Come sit.”

 

Peter pulled off his mask, walked over as quietly as he could, not wanting to make any noise on the floor. He didn’t want to annoy the man who was about to dole out a punishment by walking too loudly. He sat a few feet away from Mr. Stark, trying to maintain distance, as if being in his proximity would make Peter grow even more attached to him. Which, in all fairness, was probably true.

 

“Peter,” Tony said, finally looking up from his device. “What the hell happened?”

 

Peter studied his face for a moment, trying to gauge exactly what Mr. Stark was feeling. He looked worried, and upset.

 

_ “I disappointed him,”  _ Peter though, looking away.  _ “He never wants to see me again.” _

 

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I’m sorry.”

 

Tony leaned over slightly, getting a little closer. Peter leaned back, trying to maintain a distance. He noticed the slight look of sadness on Mr. Stark’s brow, but it didn’t last long. Mr. Stark was never one for showing emotions. He leaned back, giving Peter the space he wanted.  


 

“Kid, you almost just got yourself killed over a carjacking. I saw it, you let them hit you. Spill it, what’s going on?”

 

“I… don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Tough. I gave you the suit, you answer my questions.”

 

Peter’s head snapped up, eyes starting to fill with tears. He didn’t want his suit to get taken away, again.

 

He took a deep breath, pushing the tears back down where they belonged. Crying in front of Mr. Stark wasn’t an option.

 

“It… It makes me feel better, you know?”

 

“What?”

 

“The fighting. The blood, the broken bones, the… the pain.”

 

“Peter…” Tony started, getting a look of sympathy on his face. Peter couldn’t let him finish, he knew that if Mr. Stark said anything, he would fall sobbing into his arms.

 

“Don’t… Don’t. I can’t.”

 

“Peter, can’t what? What aren’t you telling me?”

 

“I can’t get my heart ripped open again, OK?!” He snapped, standing and spinning to face away from Tony. When Mr. Stark didn’t ask another question, he just continued.

 

“I can’t DO this again. I lost my mom and dad, and I thought I’d never have another family. I thought I’d end up alone, like the stray dog on my street that fought other dogs for scraps and never had anyone to pet him. But Aunt May and Uncle Ben took me in, and Uncle Ben was so much like my dad, and I thought I’d have my family forever, but then he died in my arms, Mr. Stark, he died while I begged him, I  _ begged  _ him to stay. After that, I promised myself I’d never need anyone like I needed my mom or my dad, or my Uncle Ben. But then you-” Peter spun around to face Tony. Mr. Stark’s face was somewhat slack, and his eyes seemed to shine with unshed tears. Still, he said nothing, so Peter continued.

 

“You came into my life, and I promised myself I wouldn’t get attached. I promised myself, and I broke that promise day after day after day, and I knew I would start to need you. I tried to stop myself, I tried to break the strings that I tied between you and me, but I’m just so sad and alone and it hurts, Mr Stark. It hurts. I’m so empty and broken, and getting a broken rib or two distracts me from the emptiness that’s gonna swallow me up like a black hole someday. Ok, Mr. Stark? That’s what I haven’t been telling you.”

 

Peter wheezed, trying to catch his breath. He had only taken one breath through that entire speech, and he was winded. The more he breathed, the more guilty he started to feel. He knew now that Mr. Stark would hate him, that he was weirded out by how attatched Peter had gotten to his mentor. That he never asked to be a big part of Peter’s life, and he didn’t want to be.

 

Peter was so stuck in his own head that he didn’t even see Mr. Stark stand up. A few seconds later, he felt himself being pulled into two warm arms. He struggled at first, but they didn’t let go. He let the tears fall, and hugged Mr. Stark back. 

 

“Kid, I know you’re a genius, but you can be such an idiot.”

 

Tony pulled away, looking into Peter’s face. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re a big fan of mine, you know how many times I’ve avoided death. You’re the closest thing I have to a son, Pete, and I would never leave you. Your family never left you, either, they were taken away from you. They were forced to leave, but Peter, they would be so proud of you.”

 

Peter just cried harder.

 

“And they would never want you to suffer like you’re suffering now.”

 

Peter’s knees gave out from under him, years of built up grief and loss spilling out in sobs and short breaths. Tony settled them to sit against the wall, and they sat there for a long time. For the first time since his Uncle had died, he felt safe. He felt like he was home.

 

\----

 

“Hey kid?”

 

“Yeah, Mr. Stark?”

 

“I hate to do this, but my arm has been asleep for a while now.”

 

Peter sat up quickly, maybe a little too quickly, since he felt the room spin a little. His face was so puffed up from crying and getting punched that he could hardly see, and his eyes burned from all the tears.

 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.”

 

“Also, cut it with the Mr. Stark stuff. Call me Tony. I mean, unless you want me to call you Mr. Parker.”

 

“Oh. Well, ok, Tony.”

 

Peter offered a hand to to Tony, pulling him to his feet. Tony put his arm around Peter, and the two looked out the window that overlooked the city for a long time.

 

“Just so you know, Peter.”

 

“What?”

 

“That speech you gave back there? Way too many metaphors.”

 

Peter smirked, nudging Tony lightly with his shoulder.

 

“I know. I was being emo, what can I say.”

 

Tony patted his arm.

 

“I’m not ever gonna leave you kid. Please try to believe that.”

 

Peter wasn’t sure if he believed him. He knew he wouldn’t stop seeing Uncle Ben’s dying face in his dreams, or faces in crowds that were so similar to his parents that he momentarily thought they were still alive. He knew he couldn’t believe Tony right away even if he wanted to, but this was at least somewhere to start.

 

“Ok. I’ll try.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, this is my first time writing a fanfic in a few years! Infinity War murdered my soul, so I made this to cope and basically shove all my issues onto Peter (but what else is fanfic for, amirite)
> 
> Let me know if you like it, I might make it a series!
> 
> if you like a lot of marvel memes (and regular memes) and marvel headcanons, my tumblr is @idontfeelsogucci


End file.
